Journal
by MajoraAgora
Summary: Female "reader" tries to steal Arthur Morgan's journal. Smut, oneshot


A more dom Arthur

Nsft

Arthur Morgan x f!reader

You've been in gangs your whole life, had no other choice really.

Dutch was different, sure, but the people who followed him were quite different as well. In particular, Arthur Morgan.

He sat on his cot, smoking a cigarette, writing in his journal. You curled around the fire, blanket wrapped around you. You watched the cigarette dangle from his lips as he dragged pencil against paper. The glow from the tip illuminating his face at every drag.

"Go talk to him."

Charles voice was pitched low, it was only you two at the fire anyways.

"No. What a waste it would be Charles."

Your hair had come undone, it was late anyhow, and it trailed over your shoulder to rest on your forearms. It looked like a black river flowing over you.

"He's drawing you, you know."

Your eyes flick upwards at him, knowing better than to look at Arthur. "Is that so?"

"Yes. And by the way he's fidgeting I'm guessing he isn't happy with my attention to you. However innocent it may be."

You were a bold woman by nature. Any other shyness or nervousness was long taken from you. Growing in a gang did that. So you slowly raised yourself up, brushed off the dirt, and calmly walked to Arthur. You knew Charles was right when he quickly slammed his journal shut and put it in his bag. You aren't a camp whore. Never have been, and because of that you have many marred skin from fighting back and winning. But you've picked men over the years, very selectively. Something about this man, from day one, has made you hot. The command, the control he has. Seeing him fight, protect others weaker than him. The play of muscles on his bare back when he chopped wood in the morning. This crush was getting out of hand. He could have you eating out of the palm of his hand and he has no idea.

"Are you drawin me, Mr. Morgan?"

He looks at you a bit strangely.

"Sure. I have drawn just about everyone at least once." He shrugs, takes another drag of his cigarette.

"You like drawing people?" You sit tentatively on a box near the edge of his tent.

"Sure. Animals and plants too." He didn't seem to mind you sitting.

The night is quiet except for the crickets and Charles had left when you did. Everyone seemed to be sleeping. The night always seemed to give you courage.

"Can I see it?"

"No. I uh... don't let anyone look at ma journal." He holds the cigarette between two fingers, his hat hiding his eyes.

"What if I give you something personal in return?"

He tips his hat back then, obviously confused. "And?"

"Um... how about something about me?" You shrug.

He chuckles at this.

"No thanks."

You stand up and sit next to him, on the side his satchel rests. A terrible idea pops into your head.

"I had a hard life, like you Arthur..." You trail off as you place your hand on the cot, leaning over a tiny bit. He leans back, watching you with a bit of interest.

"When I was but 17 years old, I met Hosea and his Bessie. But I didn't see them again for so long. I wish I woulda went with them then..."

"I ain't giving you my journal-" He chuckles "-but please continue." You can tell he is interested in your words, but the way he glances at your body it may be something else.

You give him a sad smile, the biggest doe eyes you can muster and steel yourself for a grab and run.

"I think I was always meant for the outlaw life, stealing and-" you reach into his pack (flap open) and thankfully the first thing you grab is a thick leather bound book. You yank it out and turn tail. It was within a second or two.

"-HEY! Oh you little shit!"

Although you got his journal, you only made it to the outskirts of camp before he grabbed you, bringing you to the ground. It was childish really, taking the man's journal, and you weren't gonna really read it behind his back. But you wanted his attention, something more than a tip of his hat, a how-ya-doin-miss, even the long looks he gives when he thinks you don't notice.

Arthur was annoyed until you started to laugh. He had one of his thick arms around your middle, both of you on your hands and knees. You tossed the journal next to you and let your top half drop onto the grass, still laughing. It must of dawned on him that you only took it to make him chase you, because at that moment he began to chuckle too. But it was forced, and a bit uneven. His chest was flush against your bottom, his chuckles brought an involuntary "oh" into the night. Silence fell between you two, he did not let go but squeezed you a bit harder.

"Ya know, stealin another man's possessions in camp warrants some punishment." He murmurs , and you can feel him hold his breath. Maybe hoping the comment can go sexual but if you balk, then a simple joke is all. Depending on your response.

"What- What will you do to me Arthur?" You try to pour as much sensuality into your voice as possible, arching your back a little. Don't want any mixed signals to scare him off. It's been a cat and mouse game with you two for months and you want to get caught.

He brings his hand that was on the ground, and lays it on your back, putting slight pressure. When you bend your back for him you feel the rumble in his chest.

"That's my girl." He pulls at your blouse tucked into your ranch pants until he finds bare skin. He rumbles appreciation in his chest as his calloused fingers drag across your sensitive back. He's sitting up now, his own hard cock pressed against your butt, placing pressure. Rocking gently. Between both your trousers you can only feel the promise of what his cock can bring but it's enough to bring breathy moans to your lips.

Arthur's other hand had left your middle when he readjusted his stance and so both hands rubbed under your shirt, lower back to shoulders to hips. He pulls your top half back up so you're on all fours again. Then he drags his hands around to your soft belly, upwards until the back of his hands touched the underside of your breasts. He placed a hand back down to steady himself while he slowly brings his rough hand to cover your breast.

"Ahh. That's it. I won't hurt ya. Your so soft..." His face is pressed into your neck, nipping at the skin. His fingers rub against your nipple, then pinching it. It makes you involuntary jerk. He bites down on your neck in response.

"You want me Arthur? You want your cock in me?" You turn it up a notch, hoping he isn't just playing with you and calling it quits. He doesn't say anything for a bit, just nuzzles your neck. You let him, wanting him to be absolutely sure this is what he wants.

"Christ... yes... you have no idea." He exhales finally.

"Are you gonna beg for it?" You rub yourself against him, and are rewarded with a growl. He sits up, abandoning your breast to place a gentle but firm hand around the back of your neck.

"No, you're gonna be doin the beggin." His fingers grip, almost reaching around your neck.

You take some of his weight while his other hand plays at your sensitive nipples again breathing harshly into your ear. "You gonna be good? Do as I say?" You can feel your core spasm at his dominance over you. Most men always backed off, intimidated by you.

"Yes Arthur." You let your breathy words out in an exhale.

He sits up finally, and tugs at your trousers pulling them over your hips leaving them pooled at the knees. You wore no underthings since you were just lounging around camp that day. A groan is ripped from him, like he's in pain.

"Touch yourself"

And you bring your hand under you to play with your clit. Too many moments go by and you begin to feel embarrassed. You turn your head to see Arthur sitting on his feet, knees spread. Both union suit and trousers were open and he was fisting himself while the other hand rested on your butt cheek. You watched him watching you and could feel yourself getting hot all over. His thumb pulled a little, opening you more to his gaze. His eyes flicked to yours.

"What-" He cleared his throat "-what do you want?" He squeezes your butt hard.

You whimper but he is persistent.

"Well?"

"Touch me..."

"I am touching you."

"P-put your fingers in. Something!"

You bite out with a bit of frustration. He smiles, albeit with strain, and lets his thick thumb sink into you. Your wet, and so it goes in easily, but it still shocks you. He keeps a steady rhythm for a minute or two before replacing his fingers with his mouth, like he can't help it. Lighting may as well hit you, you fall forward and he grabs your hips with both hands, punishingly. He growls against you to hold still but you can't. Shoving a fist in your mouth you whimper and jerk while he laps at you like ice cream. You look back around to see his back half, his cock still out, swollen and leaking onto the ground but untouched. At that moment he sucked on your clit, throwing you over the edge.

"You ready darlin?" His voice is hoarse and demanding. "You want this cock?"

"Yes, Arthur. Oh please." You coo out, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm.

He rubs his length against your folds, not dipping in yet.

"A-Arthur please!"

That's all he needs, shoving his whole length inside. He gives you short grinding thrusts as he groans agains your neck.

"I want a naked sketch of you, you're gonna lay open for me. You owe me after stealin my journal." You know it's just the sex talking but you answer anyway.

"Anything you w-want."

He reaches around, his arm going under yours to grasp the front of your neck his hold firm. He bites at your exposed shoulder and then your ear breathing harshly. You arch your back, bringing him deeper.

"S-shit. Shit _ I'm gonna...fuck. Fuck." He pulls out and you knew he would. You flip around, his grip lax now as his orgasm is coming, and face him. He knows what your doing and scrambles to his feet. You knock his hand away and shove his cock in your mouth.

"Ah- Christ." He grabs your hair tightly and grinds his orgasm into your throat, it all surprisingly painful. But you let him, his face too adorable in this vulnerable moment. After a moment you pull back but he doesn't let go.

You swallow. Your throat a bit sore, but he still has your hair, holding your face pressed against his hip.

"Are ya alright?" He loosens his hand tangled in your hair and strokes it. When you don't answer he kneels back down and holds your face.

"D-did I hurt you?" He looks so worried that you had to smile.

"No. I hope we can do that again sometime."

He just chuckles and hugs you to him, kissing the top of your head.

"Well I suppose you don't still wanna see that drawin?"

You laugh as he readjusts himself.

"Let me help you darlin..." he begins to lift your trousers back up when a voice pierces the fantasy.

"Well that was quiet a show! Didn't know you had it in ya Morgan!" Micah's laugh from the edge of camp, illuminating his form by the lamp light. You feel your face on fire but Arthur is up and already charging at him like a bull. As they both fall to the ground throwing punches you smile to yourself as you get dressed. These cowboys will keep life interesting.


End file.
